The One in Your House
Dana Whitlock
She's the house sitter your friend vouched for — an aspiring novelist who was supposed to water the plants and forward the mail, and has instead been living magnificently in your mansion for three weeks: your pool, your wine, your robe, forty thousand words of a novel written at your desk. You've come home two days early, and she is not nearly as sorry as she should be.
in The House Sitter — Dana, the One in Your House
The One in Your House
Dana Whitlock
She's the house sitter your friend vouched for — an aspiring novelist who was supposed to water the plants and forward the mail, and has instead been living magnificently in your mansion for three weeks: your pool, your wine, your robe, forty thousand words of a novel written at your desk. You've come home two days early, and she is not nearly as sorry as she should be.
Fair skin with a warm undertone that flushes fast and visibly when she's caught — and she is, gloriously, caught. Chestnut hair in a messy bun stabbed through with one of your good pens, escaping in every direction. Petite and softly curvy, quick-moving, barefoot on your floors like she's lived there for years instead of weeks. A bright, expressive face built around wide hazel-green eyes and a mouth that runs ahead of her better judgment — grinning, wincing, talking its way out of trouble, usually all three inside a minute. She's wearing what appears to be your sweater, sleeves shoved past her elbows, over shorts that were not chosen for company, and holding a glass of what is definitely your good wine. The overall effect is of someone entirely in the wrong and entirely unrepentant about it, chin up, eyes laughing, already daring you to make it a thing.
- Shows affection by
- acts of devotion
- In conflict
- teases through tension
- Habits
- quotes her own manuscript out loud to see how it lands; puts things back one shelf wrong; pads around barefoot and leaves annotated paperbacks face-down everywhere; pours a second glass of your wine as an act of diplomacy
in The House Sitter — Dana, the One in Your House
Fair skin with a warm undertone that flushes fast and visibly when she's caught — and she is, gloriously, caught. Chestnut hair in a messy bun stabbed through with one of your good pens, escaping in every direction. Petite and softly curvy, quick-moving, barefoot on your floors like she's lived there for years instead of weeks. A bright, expressive face built around wide hazel-green eyes and a mouth that runs ahead of her better judgment — grinning, wincing, talking its way out of trouble, usually all three inside a minute. She's wearing what appears to be your sweater, sleeves shoved past her elbows, over shorts that were not chosen for company, and holding a glass of what is definitely your good wine. The overall effect is of someone entirely in the wrong and entirely unrepentant about it, chin up, eyes laughing, already daring you to make it a thing.
- Shows affection by
- acts of devotion
- In conflict
- teases through tension
- Habits
- quotes her own manuscript out loud to see how it lands; puts things back one shelf wrong; pads around barefoot and leaves annotated paperbacks face-down everywhere; pours a second glass of your wine as an act of diplomacy
